The Pros and Cons of Canine Ownership
by cannon
Summary: There are a lot of options to consider.


Jack went back into his cabin, making it to the living room in time to watch Carter's rental car disappear over the ridge. He sipped his beer, wondering about her visit, about what she'd said... about what the consequences of their plan would be. It was damned risky. It had practically no chance of working. He had a sudden flash of himself leading his team up the ramp in black uniforms to stop a Goa'uld attack on Earth... a mission he had been expressly forbidden to go on. He turned away from the window and went to the kitchen for a beer.  
  
There was a copy of the classifieds on the table; the paper kind of classifieds. He could never get used to reading the newspaper on those freaky little PDA things the Aschen perpetuated. A lot of humans felt the same way and he was glad that there was at least one thing he agreed with the rest of humanity on. He walked to the paper with a fresh beer in hand, peering down at the ads he'd circled. "Puppies, free to a good home!!" "Golden Retriever Liked Neighbor's Lab too much! Puppies!" and "Animal Shelter Open House!"  
  
He uncapped the beer and wandered into the living room. 'I live in the middle of the woods, I actively speak out against the practical leaders of the world...' He quirked his lips. 'Maybe I should get a pit bull. Just take the survivalist cliche right on through to the end.' He dropped into his armchair and looked out the window at his pond. How long can a man fish in a fish-less pond? How many beers can a man drink, how many years have to go by before he admits he's just waiting to die?  
  
"These people could save our asses, General," he'd said. It was on his word that the Earth had gone forward with negotiations. If he'd stopped. If he'd been typically suspicious... why had he been so eager to look a gift horse in the mouth?  
  
Had he been that tired of fighting? Or had he been that frustrated at being empty-handed for so long? Four years and they had, what, a couple of gliders that barely worked right. He flicked his bottle cap across the room and stared at the ceiling.  
  
If he got a big dog, it would eat like mad. Which would mean weekly, maybe daily, trips to the market for food. He didn't want that. He liked his monthly stocking-up trips and the solitude it allowed him the rest of the month. So, a small dog. Small-ish. Maybe a Pomeranian. He wrinkled his nose and discarded that idea immediately. Sara had liked Pomeranians. So had Sam.  
  
He pressed the beer bottle against his forehead and closed his eyes.  
  
"It turns out we made a mistake. A big one."  
  
"Which one? We made a few."  
  
He didn't want to admit how much he wanted to hear a different answer. "We made a mistake. A big one. I should never have married Joe." That's what he wanted to hear. That was the mistake he wanted to fix. Call him selfish, he didn't care about the rest of the world. The rest of his world ended at the supply shop a mile down the road. Everything was fine within that little circumference, so why risk his life to change it?  
  
Because it could bring her to you.  
  
Without the Aschen, without the treaty... there would be no Joe. Without Joe, Sam would be free. Free for... whatever. He didn't know. He didn't know if he would run to her and tell her how he felt, if he would gather her in his arms and let her know how he truly felt. If he changed history, basically erased Faxon from the equation, he would never know that she had married someone else. He would never know he'd missed out and, knowing him, he would let history fall apart all over again.  
  
She'd meet someone else. She'd fall in love with him and marry him and Jack O'Neill would be the guy she sometimes thought about. If he was lucky.  
  
She couldn't have children. God, how much had it hurt him to hear that? Samantha Carter would have made an outstanding mother. She hadn't always been able to see it, but that day she had... He turned away and pressed the beer against his head again, hoping to freeze the memories as they rushed him.  
  
He remembered her calling him, frantic. It was before she had married Joe and, again, he had hoped it was her coming to the realization she'd made a mistake. But no. "I think I'm in trouble, Sir."  
  
Long story short, her period had been late and a home-pregnancy test had proven positive. Jack hadn't wanted to fathom that she was making love to Joseph Faxon, but he'd calmed her. He told her about Charlie, how Sara's pregnancy had been unplanned and how he had realized what a miracle his son was. How he had become the father he never knew he could've been. He had talked her down from her ledge and soothed her. By the time they hung up, she had been laughing and joking about going crazy over something so simple.  
  
A few years later, married and happy, she and Joe had started trying to have kids according to Janet Fraiser. He had always wondered if his conversation with Sam had changed her mind...  
  
"What happens to everything that's happened in the past ten years?"  
  
"It won't happen."  
  
"So we don't go to P4C-970, we don't meet the Aschen, then.... what?"  
  
"Then Joe never comes to the SGC to negotiate the treaty, I don't get stuck off-world with him overnight, we never fall in love and I'm free to fall into your arms when you retire from the Air Force."  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
He stood and walked into the kitchen, nudging the paper with his beer bottle. He picked up the phone, dialing a number and listening to the ring tone. "Yeah, I'm calling about the golden retriever/lab mix... Yeah, I'll hold." He looked down at the paper. 'Aschen Promise...' 'Aschen to Bring...' 'Aschen...' He looked outside, past the lake, picturing the last time he'd seen Minnesota. Farmlands.  
  
Changing the world could kill them. He closed his eyes, tapping the phone against his ear as he considered the ramifications. If they failed, they died. If they died... he couldn't picture Sam dead. If they did it... Sam could have no part of it. Joe, at least, would go along with that part of the plan. Maybe he'd even be the one to suggest that she not be involved. He would attempt to do what they wanted, keep Earth from being destroyed by the Aschen... so long as Sam was safe if they didn't succeed.  
  
The phone picked up on the other end. "Hi, you're calling about the dogs?"  
  
"Sorry," Jack said before hanging up. "Had a change of heart." 


End file.
